


The heart knows first

by dancey94



Category: Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Angst, Hand Jobs, Hannibal Extended Universe, Jealousy, M/M, Sexual Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 03:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5401616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancey94/pseuds/dancey94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During one of their missions, Galahad tries to resolve his feelings for Tristan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The heart knows first

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abigail_frank](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail_frank/gifts).



Beyond the gates of their camp, beyond the reassurance of their remaining relatives, beyond the warmth only the walls of the camp can provide, the safety. Surrounded by the forests and the hot air of approaching summer. But the obligation never ends. The bargain has been already struck.

The knights stopped by a stream to let the horses drink some water and have a rest. A long journey was ahead of them and they would soon be deprived of sleep and peace.

Galahad has always enjoyed the water. He likes swimming and bathing, and the sound of the drops mixing together in a lake, similar to the sound a flag makes when the air blows. First he dips his hands in the brook and then washes his face. The splash is refreshing and relieving. They all need a bath - their clothes are muddy and drenched in sweat. Galahad’s hair are greasy. _How are they not infected yet with those beards and lack of any hygiene?_

The knights all wash their faces. Bors splashes some water on Dagonet, which makes Lancelot roll his eyes. Tristan looks around the plain, then sits by the bank of the stream with a grimace on his face. It’s so peaceful, almost too much. He would suspect a trap if not for the fact that they already defeated a small group of local rebels on their way here.

Galahad breathes in the scent of pines and takes off his armour. He’s left in just his tunic which moves with the wind and reveals his strong thighs. All of the knights undress, partially or completely, and jump into the water. They wash their clothes and their bodies.

Galahad has felt very self-conscious about his body for some time and he also felt awkward surrounded by his comrades in such intimate situations. It was mostly because he was young, the youngest of them, and he was still discovering his body and his romantic as well as sexual preferences. Being around those strong, older, brave (and mostly handsome) men is confusing for the warrior and he feels ashamed of his thoughts and desires. It’s late at night, when they are asleep, that Galahad sometimes wakes involuntarily, often from a wet dream, and contemplates on his life.

Maybe the knights are aware of their mate’s dilemma but they rarely say anything, at least not seriously. There have been  a few remarks once or twice by the fire, but they were followed by laughter and playful poking. Galahad wonders if they purposefully dismiss the situation or genuinely don’t care.

Tristan is the first to go out from the water and Galahad has to turn away not to be tempted to look at the naked man, glistening with drops of water. There is no way of knowing why it is Tristan who appears in Galahad’s lustful dreams, though one may try to infer that it is the almost reckless bravery, the amber eyes and sharp tongue. He’s probably the first to repel anyone who comes in contact with him yet Galahad finds himself enchanted. This has to stop or it will end badly.

Tristan puts on a pair of trousers and sits by the stream, with his feet and calves in the water. Gradually, the rest of the knights also go to sit or lie by a tree and have some rest. Galahad wrings his tunic and sits next to Tristan but in a safe distance.

“I’ve seen a few bushes with blueberries. Should we go and pick some?” Galahad asks nonchalantly.

Tristan looks up at the sky and then turns to face Galahad.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Well, then let’s make it a competition – who will pick more?”

Tristan checks on the rest of the knights, all but Arthur soundly asleep, and he stands up. Galahad smiles and leads them to the place he described. They crouch by the bushes and start picking the blueberries. Galahad lifts his tunic, creating a concave surface where he can put the berries for later.

One thing about Tristan is that he speaks only when he wants to and most often when he has something to say. Otherwise he’s quiet and expresses himself through actions. Galahad realises that he doesn’t mind this, although right now he feels awkward.

“I never know what you think. None of us do, I believe. I think I know you but I wouldn’t dare guessing what’s on your mind right now.”

“The berries.”

“What?”

“We’re picking the berries so I’m thinking about eating some berries.”

Galahad wants to laugh but the answer is pretty rational.

“But don’t you think about the future? Don’t you miss anything?”

“No.”

Galahad sighs and almost gives up but Tristan speaks again.

“I’m bored. This is not what the warriors do. We don’t pick berries. We fight.”

“So you miss the fighting.” Galahad concludes and moves to another bush.

The conversation ends here and after a while Galahad and Tristan come back by the stream. Tristan sits by a tree to hide from the sun in a pleasant shadow and Galahad observes the knight from a few meters away, by another tree. They eat the berries, quiet, and suddenly a girl approaches the stream with a few clothes in a basket. Apparently, she didn’t notice the knights and proceeds with the washing.

Galahad watches Tristan, who spots the girl, narrows his eyes, probably looking for any weapons and expecting a trap, but finally continues eating the berries. Galahad sighs and stands up. He approaches Tristan and pours his berries into the warrior’s hands.

“I’m not hungry anymore. I think I’ll have some rest.”

Tristan looks up at Galahad and then at the girl by the stream.

“Are you going to talk to her?”

Galahad frowns and shakes his head.

“No. I just told you I’m going to sleep. Wait, are you… Are you asking me because _you_ want to talk to her?”

When Tristan doesn’t reply, Galahad turns on his heel and returns by the tree. He lies down on the grass and closes his eyes. Does it always feel like this, when you’re infatuated? Is it always so weird and awkward? Or maybe it’s just because Galahad had to develop feelings for the worst possible person of all the people.

“I’m not stupid.” Galahad hears Tristan’s voice. “You may think I am but I’m not. I just don’t care about any dramas.”

Galahad sits up and looks at Tristan.

“What?”

“You like me.” Tristan says matter-of-factly and Galahad frowns again. Does it always have to be so difficult with this man?

“I…yes. We’re friends. We fight together.” Galahad explains.

“No. I mean you _like_ me.”

Galahad feels the heat rise in his cheeks and stomach. So Tristan knows. He just decided not to do anything about it. Well, that should be the ultimate answer to his questions and a reason to stop dreaming about the knight.

“I don’t understand why.” Tristan continues.

“Do you care?” Galahad asks but knows the answer so he lies down. He hears soft rustling and then an additional shadow blocks the rays of sun. “What?” Galahad asks, slightly angry. He really wants to rest now.

“Tell me why.”

Galahad blinks and looks at Tristan. He spots the man’s hairy calves, the long braids on his head, the scratches on his arms.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t even guess it.”

“But you do. You like me.”

“Yes. Now, will you let me have some rest?”

Tristan sits by Galahad on the grass and leans against the tree. Galahad is irritated and thinks this is supposed to be some kind of torture but he remains quiet. He deserves it. What was he thinking when he decided Tristan is worth it?

“Do you want some berries?” Tristan asks and Galahad has never been more confused in his life. He turns to look at the knight by his side with a few berries in his hand. Is this a test?

“I said I-”

“You said you weren’t hungry. I know.” But the hand still offers the berries so Galahad sits up and takes a few.

The two knights lean against the tree and watch the girl wash the clothes in the stream. Galahad reaches for more berries and when they’ve eaten them all, he feels fear again. Funny how they are all brave soldiers, ready to die for their country and families. Yet when it comes to this man, this one and only person who irritates and fascinates Galahad, he’s just as terrified and small as any other person.

“I don’t care for love and all the drama. If you seek it, go and look somewhere else.” Tristan spits and lies down next to Galahad on the green grass under the tree.

No, Galahad is not seeking love drama. But what was that supposed to mean? Did Tristan just reject him? Or offered a casual affair where they fuck but otherwise remain only comrades, with Tristan still silent and secretive?

Galahad stretches his arm and, not exactly on purpose touches Tristan’s hand. The skin on skin contact makes them both gasp softly and Galahad quickly withdraws his hand.

*********

They are riding along a forest, keeping a fair distance in case any Picts show up. Galahad is sitting on his horse, right behind Tristan, as usual, but it feels different now. He watches the knight’s back and allows himself a glance at the man’s legs bouncing as he rides the horse. They had a short nap, then moved forward and now look for a village where a traitor was discovered. That’s their mission.

They enter the forest and keep close to one another. Tristan observes the trees for any suspicious movement and Bors has his hand already on the small axe. They are careful, ready to fight. But they leave the forest on the other side without a scratch. No enemy has taken up to attack them.

They see the village in a fair distance which takes them a couple of minutes to cover. A few officers welcome the knights and show them to a room with a few temporary beds. They arrived as simple messengers, mere guests; no one is aware they came to apprehend (or kill) a traitor.

Arthur gives his thanks and quickly gathers his knights to explain the plan. They need to split to find the guy and whoever sees him, needs to bring him to their room.

Galahad ends up by a well and he looks down to find his own blurry reflection.

“The tradition says you should make a wish or something.” Galahad hears Tristan’s harsh voice and for a moment he thinks about all the wishes he has. There are smaller dreams, mostly visiting him at night, and there are big hopes for the future. Or rather, there were. Galahad abandoned any hopes the other day and he shouldn’t expect anything to change soon.

Tristan takes a few steps but stops in a fair distance from Galahad.

“Found him.”

“What?” Galahad asks confused and looks at Tristan with wide eyes.

“The traitor. Arthur is talking to him. We’ll be taking him to the camp.”

“Good.” Galahad says but neither of them move. Tristan offers an intrigued look so Galahad feels the need to escape. “I need a piss.”

Tristan seems undisturbed and continues glancing at Galahad and the well. Galahad moves and goes away, behind a building, where there are a few thick and high bushes. He lifts his tunic and lowers his pants. Suddenly, someone approaches him and leans against the wall, observing.

“Tristan. Would you mind?”

“Why so shy all of a sudden? Afraid of what I might see?”

“I believe you know what to expect.” Galahad says and grabs his prick under the tunic, which makes Tristan smirk. He waits.

“Ever think of me when you touch it?”

Galahad snorts but he’s not offended.

“Is that why you’re here? Because you want me to think of you when I take a piss?” Galahad asks playfully and tucks himself back in pants. Tristan steps closer to the other knight and lowers his hand to the front of Galahad’s pants under the tunic.

“Just rubbing. Nothing more. And I will not let you moan.” Tristan says and reaches to lower Galahad’s pants.

Their breathing quickens and Galahad moves slightly further into the bushes. No one can see them. He leans against the wall and reaches for Tristan’s face.

“No kissing.” The knight warns and continues stroking Galahad’s erection. With his other hand Tristan covers Galahad’s mouth to keep the man quiet. Galahad throws his head back and thinks about how wrong this is. The conditions, the dangerous tone of Tristan’s voice.

Galahad is close. He wants so badly to do the same to Tristan but he’s too lost in ecstasy with every stroke and every puff of air from Tristan’s mouth.

“Next time…” Galahad begins but is quickly made silent with a faster, harder and more precise touch. He comes. His sperm gushes on Tristan’s hand and Galahad’s knees bend, no longer able to support the man. Tristan reaches for a few leaves on the bushes to wipe his hand as he watches Galahad’s flushed and completely relaxed face. The truth is no one has ever done this to him and Galahad has just experienced the best of orgasms.

“I was sent to bring you.” Tristan explains, shattering the bubble of perfect release. He waits for Galahad to regain a regular heartbeat.

**********

On their way to the camp they make only two stops. Fate has brought Tristan and Galahad together when at the first stop they are chosen to take care of their prisoner while the others sleep.

Galahad wants to talk, he wants to discuss what happened between them and, most of all, he wants to find out if it’s going to happen again. But before he can say anything, Tristan punches their prisoner unconscious and says he needs to pee. Galahad’s eyes widen in shock but he can’t help a smile spreading on his face. He follows Tristan further into the forest and stops by a tree next to the man. He watches Tristan lower his pants and then spots a hanging piece of thick flesh. The temptation to lick his lips is too strong so he doesn’t refrain.

“Kneel.” Comes a simple order and Galahad is eager to follow it but he’s aware how dangerous that is.

“What if they hear? Or if the Picts see us? If we-”

“If you don’t want it, don’t ask for it. Go and have some sleep. I’ll be on the lookout.”

Galahad sighs. He’s not going to be someone’s bitch and he’s not going to risk exposure. He goes back to lie down by the others and falls asleep.

**********

During their second stop, in a village not far from the camp, Tristan doesn’t sleep. Galahad can’t sleep either so when he sees his comrade sneak out, he gets curious. He follows Tristan to a stone inn where the knight talks to a woman. She has freckles and rosy cheeks and she seems to be enjoying Tristan’s company. It’s actually odd to see that the man is interested in something else than fighting and war. He’s interested in entertainment and… And the woman kisses his cheek. Then she grabs his arm and they leave the room. Galahad feels something heavy and painful in his stomach. He’s afraid he’s going to puke so he leaves the inn.

Sleep doesn’t come easy still and Galahad ends up sobbing a little. He is the stupid one. He shouldn’t have made this mistake. But it was good. Even if it wasn’t about affection, their frigging was at least satisfying on the physical ground. He falls asleep before Tristan comes back.

**********

Arthur brings the prisoner and all the knights are paid well. They are offered some time of peace but they know best that the promise will be broken. A new deal will be made, a new mission put on their backs.

Galahad sits on his bed and wonders if Tristan leaves the camp to meet with the woman sometimes. He’s never seen him do that but he’s never followed him at night. Now, the temptation is there. Galahad leaves his room and go to the gates of the camp. In case anyone asks, he can say he couldn’t sleep and wanted to join the guards.

There is no movement whatsoever in the camp. Everyone seems to be asleep, unaware of the world and Galahad’s heartache. Why does he bother? He spends all night by the guards and no one ever leaves the camp.

In the morning Galahad returns to his room and lies down on the bed. He falls asleep immediately.

During dinner Arthur gives his thanks to his warriors and tells them about their next mission. They have a day or two before they need to go and Galahad realises he can’t have anything good in his life now, not when he’s constantly risking his life. And it would be reckless to think otherwise.

He can’t look at Tristan for the whole meal and only after he’s approached by Lancelot.

“Was he mean to you? I mean, more than usually?”

“Who?”

“Tristan. I noticed you barely speak to him, don’t look at him. I know it’s none of my business but I was wondering if maybe he said or did something that made you so upset. We’re all friends here.”

“I know. We’re friends. I only don’t feel well.”

“In your stomach? Head?”

Heart is the true answer but Galahad only nods and smiles faintly before walking away. He goes to his room and lies down. This will pass. This has to pass.

In the evening they all gather around a bonfire. Gawain is drunk and starts a marathon of songs while Bors rolls his eyes and talks about women with Lancelot. Galahad tries to get drunk as well and forget about their last mission. He wants to erase the memories of Tristan’s hands on him.

Arthur has a short speech about freedom and home and Galahad feels even more confused. They have a few months of duty left. Then, they’ll be free. And Galahad expressed a few times the desire to have a family but now it sounds revolting. He feels resentment and repulsion when he thinks about love.

Tristan eats two apples and leaves the bonfire. Galahad feels Lancelot’s eyes on him and there’s an urge to make things right. But is there even a way? Maybe they will manage those few months and then they will never see each other again.

Galahad stands up and follows Tristan to his room. He’s tipsy but not drunk and he knows there’s little possibility to make the situation worse.

“What do you want?” Tristan asks when Galahad enters his room behind him.

“To talk.”

There’s a moment of silence and Tristan gets annoyed. “So, talk.”

“Was that all? Did you even have fun touching me? Because it _was_ satisfying for _me_.”

“You stopped asking so I stopped giving. It seemed you wanted to forget about it.”

“I did. But it’s difficult. And you behave as if nothing happened!”

“You should find yourself a bride. Who knows, maybe you’ll like the woman’s touch.”

“Oh, you would know.”

Tristan frowns and looks at Galahad in bewilderment.

“I saw you at the inn. And your… bride.” Galahad doesn’t mean to offend the woman, even though he suspects she wasn’t a fair lady. “Is it about her rosy cheeks?”

Tristan begins to comprehend and he smirks. It makes Galahad more angry – he unmasked himself, showed he’s jealous, and all he receives in return is a goddamn content smile.

“You have rosy cheeks, too.” Tristan says and it makes Galahad widen his eyes in astonishment. “Especially when you’re angry. Or aroused.”

True. Galahad’s cheeks heat even now and he knows he’s blushing. He’s furious. He wants to throw and break things. Why is Tristan always right? That little-

“She’s no one. The woman from the inn. She’s someone I’ve been seeing for some time, when I’m angry or sad.” Tristan explains and it makes Galahad somewhat less jealous. But still, Tristan has been seeing a woman.

“Do you even like men? Or did you jerk me off as a some sick kind of favour?”

“I like you.”

Good. That’s a good sign.

“So do you mean it was me who screwed up because I didn’t want to-”

“We’re soldiers. We don’t love. We don’t get to have families while we’re on duty.”

“It’s only a few months left.” Galahad smiles.

“You’re young, idealistic. You want… more.”

“More than you?” Tristan hesitates and then nods. “I understand. You’re a coward after all. When it comes to the battlefield you’re nothing but bravery but when it comes to something lasting, something requiring your care, you give up.”

Tristan seems offended and then he’s face is just pure sadness. It makes Galahad angry at himself. He managed to hurt someone he truly cares about.

“You’re right. So you see we’re no match.”

Galahad is expected to leave but instead he sits on the bed and watches Tristan take off his shirt.

“I’m sorry. I only want to know why you behave like this. You said you liked me.”

“I do.”

“Do you care about me?”

Tristan cocks his head and then nods gently.

“That’s enough. I don’t need more.” Galahad states and realises that for the first time Tristan wasn’t right. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

Tristan sighs and nods, then lies down and watches Galahad take off his tunic. They settle on the bed, Galahad snuggled to Tristan, and close their eyes. He doesn’t need a bride; he needs the strong man lying beside him right now. With curly dark chest hair and long braids. With muscled arms and strong thighs. With harsh voice and soft heart.

**Author's Note:**

> [ the wonderful art](http://nnarinn.tumblr.com/post/132377776036/i-did-a-little-tristhad-stuff-cause-tristhad-is)


End file.
